Just watched the Cesar Chavez movie ...

I was reminded of my roots in the Salinas Valley. It drove me to acknowledge my inseverable bond with the strawberry and lettuce fields, formed when my dad came ashore from the Philippines in 1924, and fortified when my mom crossed over in 1959 from Mexico, and still later reinforced when I had my turn at the strawberry rows from 11-13 years old.

I don’t know where I stand with “the cause” these days, as I don’t know what the cause means these 21 years after Cesar’s death.

I only know that I still feel the pain I felt growing up in Salinas each time I’m in Salinas, when I witness and experience the conditions on the east side and within the small valley towns surrounding it – the limiting education; the lack of a community vision that is liberating and inspiring; the apathy and the selfishness of those with the power to change who only squander and abuse it for their own greedy, self-centered needs; those who’ve learned the language of struggle but who have robbed the words of their meaning as they spit cynical platitudes to obscure their cowardly indecisiveness and inaction, all to dupe the people into believing their lies.

Those people in whom we put our trust who do just enough for the illusion of effort but who know in their hearts that the fight had gone from their souls years ago, if the fight had ever been there.

I met him three times. Cesar. Same with Dolores. Many of you had and have much stronger ties no doubt.

I have to wonder how he would have defined today’s “cause,” and if he’d have evolved his efforts to address today’s obvious struggle to maintain our humanity and dignity in an economy that has ravaged our sense of safety and security, and has led to an offensive and vulgar disparity between the wealthy and everyone else.

Cesar’s work and all your work is humbling, and reminds me to be grateful for the opportunities I had and still have because of his sacrifices and those of his generation and community, which includes many of you.

So I guess I want to say thank you for the many sacrifices you have made and passion you have maintained that I probably cannot begin to identify but that I know have had an impact on my parents’ lives and those of my brothers and sisters and their families.

Ben Soriano is a former Community Columnist for The Californian. He lives in San Jose.